Dances in the Rain
by Tauna Petit-Strawn
Summary: Each "chapter" will actually be short shorts on our favorite family, the Barkleys, and their lives following the years after the end of the show. The first few will be with Jarrod and his youngest daughter, then on to Nick etc. Some will be funny and some more serious.
1. Chapter 1

1

Dancing in the Rain

Jarrod Thomas Barkley 1910 ****

I watched my youngest daughter dance with her one year old daughter today. It was raining. Joy had Meagan in her arms, outside, under the awning. I had to smile; it brought back a memory I had forgotten.

0000

Jarrod groaned, opened his eyes and sat up when he heard footsteps on the roof. It was midnight! There was no reason for anyone to be on the roof that time of night unless... he groaned. Joy, their youngest, had been caught on the roof once before, but it was night time now. She wouldn't have gone out again; would she?

He quickly threw on his pants and boots. Before throwing a shirt on, he locked the window…as the wind was picking up just a little, and it was raining. Quietly he moved across the floor and out the bedroom door, careful not to wake Ester up.

Once he was had his bedroom door shut, Jarrod ran down the hall, passing by his sons' room first, but came to an abrupt halt when he came to his daughters' room. He looked inside. His oldest daughter, eleven year old Anna Maria, was fast asleep in her bed, but when his eyes fell on five year old Joy's bed; Jarrod's heart skipped a beat. The youngest Barkley was not in bed and her window was wide open! His first thought had to have been right…Joy had to be out on the roof again! Remembering the child's fascination with the rain and her stunt on the roof the week before Jarrod let out a few choice words inside his mind. He quickly moved across the floor and climbed through the window. Sure enough, Joy Barkley was dancing on the roof in middle of the rain, though she quickly stopped once she heard someone climbing out on the roof and saw who it was. Before Jarrod could start reprimanding his daughter, she smiled up at him and innocently asked, "How did you know I needed someone to dance with, daddy?"

Her angelic smile and innocence reached up and grabbed him. How he wished life could be as simple as this child was making it. As much as Jarrod's head told him to get the child back into the house and give her the lecture of her life, another idea slowly formed in his mind and he started smiling. "Come." He signed and then held out his hand for his young daughter.

Joy's face fell for she assumed she was going to have to go back to bed. However, that notion disappeared as fast as it came. Once they were by her window, Jarrod signed "Stay here." He hurried to the side of the house, looked around the side and then came back. Joy then watched as father shut the window, to keep anymore rain from getting inside.

"Come." Jarrod signed again and then led his youngest to the side of the house where the roof was flat and a ladder still sat up against it. For once Jarrod was glad his son, sixteen year old Thomas Jarrod, had forgotten to put the ladder away like he was supposed to. He turned, looked down and smiled at Joy. There was an old saying 'If you can beat them, join them', maybe this was one of those times. He again smiled at his daughter, and then they began to dance.

_0000 __**  
**_  
Joy Barkley Donald 1910****

Father came out and danced with Meagan and myself today. It brought back memories…..


	2. Joy and School

**Joy and School**

**2**

Jarrod walked out the front door and took a deep breath. It had rained the night before and the air still held a nice fresh smell to it. With school starting, he had been looking forward to spending a quiet day with his wife since whatever paperwork he needed to get done could be finished in less than an hour. He might have continued to stand where he was, but he heard small footsteps echo from the corner of the house. He recognized them instantly and his eyebrows turned down. _"She threw such a temper tantrum; Miss Jacobs had Thomas bring her home."_ Thomas was their oldest son; he was in his last year of school. Ester's words, spoken in the den moments before, rang in Jarrod's ears. Walking to the edge of the house, Jarrod looked around to the side of the house. Sure enough, Joy was sitting alongside the house just staring off into space. Slowly, he made his way to daughter's side and sat down.

Joy looked up after her father sat down beside her and waited. She was sure she was in trouble for what she'd done. That being the case, she was surprised when he started telling her a story instead of getting after her.

"I remember when I young, start school. Not want go school. Want home, want mother, my father." Jarrod turned his head, looked at his daughter and continued signing. "Know why?"

Joy, who was surprised to hear her father had not wanted to go to school, was too surprised to say any actual words. All she could do was shake her head.

"I afraid." Jarrod answered.

Shocked, Joy started as her eyes grew wide in surprise. Her father never got scared, neither did any of her uncles. "How come?" She asked, finding her voice.

Jarrod picked the small child up and put her on his lap before he answered. "I afraid I not make friends. I afraid teacher not nice. I afraid I not learn. I want my mother. I want stay home."

Joy fought the tears that wanted to come. It had been those exact same fears that had made her decide to throw the fit she had when her mother dropped her off at the school and left. Having heard many stories of her father's school days, Joy asked quietly, "Why did you go back?"

Jarrod smiled as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and signed back. "Mother in town. She saw me. I think she mad." Jarrod smiled at the memory of his mother kneeling in front of him asking what was wrong and listening to all his fears. He was quickly brought back to the present when Joy tugged on his sleeve.

"Were you in trouble?" She asked keeping her eyes on his face while a part of her wondered if she would be punished after the conversation was over.

"No." he smiled at Joy. "She understand I afraid. We talk. She tell me Miss Barlow nice woman. She not yell, she not hit students. She teach me." He wasn't surprised when his daughter knelt up and threw her arms around his neck and held on tight.

"I'm afraid, daddy." Joy whispered after a few minutes.

_Joy Barkley Donald, 1916_

_ My daughter started school today. She didn't want to go; she was afraid. My father walked her to school and sat on a bench for a solid hour before Meagan came out and told him she'd be okay. When I asked him why he'd did it, he smiled and told me he'd done the same for me when I was little, why not do it for her? I had forgotten…._


	3. Understanding and Acceptance

3

Understanding and Acceptance

Jarrod shut the door to his office and started walking towards the school. His twelve year old son, Karl Scott, had come and told him that Miss Jacobs had kept nine year old Joy after school. The young boy said that his baby sister had been in a fight with Melissa Gardner, Phil Archer's stepdaughter. Jarrod had had to hide his grin at that one. Phil might have changed, but it wasn't stopping him from having to deal with the affects of the way he'd led his life for too many years.

Joy, who was sitting near the window, saw her father coming and shrunk a few inches into her seat. She knew her father didn't like fighting, especially when it was either of his daughters doing the hitting. When she heard the classroom door open, Joy kept her eyes on her desk.

Miss Jacobs looked up and saw Jarrod standing in the back of the classroom. She set her pencil down, stood up and walked down the aisle of desks in the room. Joy heard her teacher tell her father how she'd walked out in the hallway just in time to see Joy and Melissa fighting. "Neither one of them would say what the fight was about, and the other children didn't know. Mr. Archer has already picked up Melissa."

Jarrod made his way to this daughter. Because Miss Jacobs still had work to do, he knew he'd have to take his daughter elsewhere to find out what the problem was. "Get your books. Come with me." Jarrod signed after Joy, who could feel her father looking down at her, looked up. Slowly, she did as she had been told.

Once they were outside, Jarrod led his young daughter to a nearby bench that sat in the schoolyard. The wind was blowing gently through the air and over both Barkleys. It was as if the wind was doing what it could to smooth over the situation. "Why fight?" Jarrod turned to his daughter and asked after a good three or four minutes had passed by.

Joy bit her lip and fought to keep from crying as she remembered how Melissa had teased and taunted her after Joy had asked her a simple question. In fact, the girl had twisted the question so bad that no one would have recognized it. The things she had said were cruel and hurtful. Joy told him what she'd asked the young girl and then blurted out, "She said I was stupid if I didn't know the answer and then she said horrible things about you, daddy!" Joy's tears won the fight and rolled down her cheeks. "She said you talked funny and that if you couldn't talk with your mouth it meant you were stupid. She said a lot of other things. I would have hit her more than I did, but Miss Jacobs stopped me!" Joy had been angry about that too and told her father so.

Jarrod sighed. He knew all too well the prejudices people held against anyone who was different than they were. He laid his left hand on Joy's shoulder and signed with his free hand. "True, Melissa wrong. Doesn't matter. Wrong hit her." When Joy started to fold her arms and look away, Jarrod took a hold of her shoulders and turned her around. She knew better than to fight him. He started signing again.

"Way people talk doesn't matter. People all over world have different language. Does not make people stupid. This true." Jarrod gave his daughter a sympathetic smile and continued. "Some people accept truth. Some reject truth. Melissa in group reject truth." He then went on to ask her questions and listened to her answers. By the time they were through, Joy was holding onto her father and feeling much better.

_Joy Barkley Donald…_

_Until I saw Melissa Gardner (Archer) today I had pushed the memory of the fight at school to the back of my mind. Sadly, her attitude is not much better than it was back then. However, it no longer matters to me. Over the years I have come to an understanding and acceptance that my father was right. Whether or not one accepts truth, doesn't change truth...and the truth is my father, Jarrod Thomas Barkley, is a wonderful, smart man who has led, and continues to live in spite of health issues, a wonderful and amazing life. _


	4. Still Your Son

**4**

_**Still Your Son**_

Nick made his way into the barn, up the ladder and into the hayloft. He couldn't help but shake his head a bit before walking over and sitting down beside eight year old Eugene Nicholas_. "You're my uncle not my father!"_ Eugene's angry cries rang in Nick's ears, the feel of his small fist still on Nick's hips. "Who told you?" Nick broke the silence between them as he set his hat down next to him and removed his gloves.

"I heard Suzanna talking to Elizabeth." Eugene answered quietly, the last of his tears falling off his cheeks. Suzanna and Elizabeth were Nick's twelve year old twin daughters. "Is it true? Why didn't anyone tell me?" The hurt and confusion in the young child's eyes was heartbreaking; Nick wished he could just pick the boy up and hug him until all of it went away.

Nick looked over the scenery before his eyes. For a brief moment, he could see his baby brother laughing and talking. Had it really been seven years since he'd been gone? "Your ma… Aunt Ella and I were going to, but," Nick put his hand on his shoulder, "it seems as if your sisters beat us to it."

"You mean my cousins!" corrected the little boy. "Why doesn't anyone talk about my father? Why act as if he never lived? Why not tell me the truth before now?" Eugene was still very much out of sorts. It's not that he'd stop loving Nick or Ella; he was just confused and just wanted answers.

Nick sighed as he fought the emotions that raged inside of him. The memory of Fred knocking on his door and telling them that Eugene and his wife of a mere two years had died after a misfortunate stagecoach accident rushed to the front of his mind. Afterwards that memory came the memory of the shock he and Ella had received when Jarrod and their mother had shown up with Eugene's one year old son; they said that Eugene and Cynthia Lindon Barkley had named Nick and his wife Ella as guardians to any children born to them. It seemed Eugene admired and trusted Nick more than the dark haired rancher had ever realized. Why_ had_ the family stopped talking about Eugene as if he'd never existed? For that matter, why had they put his pictures away?

"We should have," Nick slowly admitted as he turned his gaze from the scenery to the boy he had stopped considering as a nephew years ago, "only, I guess, it just hurt too much too talk about. Your father was a very good man and deserved better than what he got." He then lifted the child up on his lap and smiled at him. "You were so little when you came to us. You were received as a blessing just like the girls. You remind me of my brother, you father, more and more each day. He and your mother would be so pleased with the way you're turnin' out."

Eugene's face lit up and his eyes shone with a bit of excitement. "Really? They would?" It made him feel good to hear the only man he knew as father say such a thing. It made up for finding out Nick was really his uncle and not his biological father.

"Really." Nick put the young child on his feet and then stood up himself. "Come with me. I have something to show you." Nick walked over to the ladder and headed down, with Eugene doing the same the moment there was room for him on the ladder. Once they were on the barn floor, Nick led him to a trunk tucked into a corner and covered with a dusty tarp. He pulled off the cover and opened it up. There were books, pictures and other items inside.

Eugene watched as Nick moved the items around and found his eyes widening as the man pulled out a picture of a young groom and his bride. "Is…Is that my father and mother?" the boy asked quietly as Nick ran his hand over the picture removing any dust that had settled on it.

"Yes," Nick answered just as quietly, "sorry, it never should have been hidden away." He turned and looked at Eugene; the love he felt for both his brother and the child before him shone in his eyes, along with a twinge of sadness. "If you want, you can call me Uncle Nick."

Eugene, who could tell how upset Nick was, shook his head. "No. you're raising me; you're the only father I know. I just…" he looked at the picture and then at Nick, "Could we put the pictures," He'd seen others in the trunk when Nick had lifted the one in his hands, "back up?"

Nick smiled at the pleading eyes of his "son" and nodded as he managed to answer, "Sure, sure we can." He retrieved a number of pictures and, with Eugene's help, managed to get them back in the house. Only when all the pictures were polished and mounted on the wall l did Eugene go back to watching the horses down at the corral. It had been what he'd intended on doing before he'd overheard his cousins' conversation as he passed them on the porch.

However, Nick remained standing until he felt Ella's arms wrap themselves around his waist and heard her says, "You know, Gene wouldn't hold it against you. I mean, young Eugene calling you father. After all, if you think about it, he's still you're son too."

Nick said nothing as he turned around, held his wife close and watched Eugene through the window. The boy was talking with their foreman and climbing up on the corral fence to watch their hands break in some horses. "Thank you, Gene. Thanks for everything." Nick whispered silently to himself before letting go of his wife and going to join the young lad.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

**Fishing**

The sun was shining and the wind was blowing just right. Eugene walked down a dirt path alongside Nick and the youngest of Nick's children, Peter. What with Ella and the girls visiting their Aunt Audra and Uncle Will in Modesto and all the necessary work done for the day, Nick and the boys had decided to take it easy and go fishing.

Nick threw back his head and started laughing when Peter snuck up on Eugene and actually succeed pushing him into the creek. He wouldn't have laughed so hard except for one fact, Eugene had already gotten Peter wet twice! It felt good to simply fish with the youngsters rather than have to deal with the ranch hands. Oh, most of the time they were a fine bunch of men, though sometimes...

"Daddy, when you were a boy, how often did you go fishing with your father?" Eugene and Peter both asked as they both sat, cross legged, on separate boulders; actually, Eugene said daddy while Peter said father. They must have been reading each other's minds and decided to see who could ask first.

Nick didn't answer at first. His mother had said more than once, his father had been imperfect, but he'd been a good man too. However, fishing trips? He sighed as he threw out his line and shook his head. "My fishin' was done with your Uncle Jarrod."

Both boys' looked at each other shock and a trace of sadness written on their faces. Nick hurried on. "You have to understand my father was not only busy building a ranch, but he also had mines and other things to oversee. He didn't have grown sons to help him."

"But you helped as he grew older," Eugene piped up, confusion still on his face, "why not go fishing then?"

Nick chuckled as his grin spread from ear to ear, "You didn't ask about when I got older. You only asked about when I was a young boy." He laughed even louder as both his boys got a look on their faces that said they were chastising themselves for not thinking about that.

"So," Eugene said as he caught a fish, "tell us about a time you went fishin' with Uncle Jarrod."

Not catching anything, Nick lay his pole down and sat down near the bank of the creek; both Eugene and Peter joined him. Nick was grateful the wind was blowing; it would make telling any story more enjoyable. At least, he thought it would. "I remember when Jarrod got out of school," he said as he smiled at his "son" , "I told I could catch more fish than he could. He didn't agree so we made a decision. Whoever caught the most fish would have to dig the worms for the next month."

Both boys were staring at Nick in eager anticipation to hear what had happened and who had won. Nick, who was making sure the story was larger than life told them how they'd gotten up before the crack of dawn, gathered their things and headed out. "We made one mistake." Nick started chuckling at the memory. "We told mother about our bet."

"You didn't!" Both boys' mouths dropped to the ground. They could only imagine what Grandma Barkley had done. Then, being the quicker of the two, Eugene piped up, "Don't tell me you let her in on your bet?"

Nick nodded as his mouth turned up into a grin. "She said she wanted in, but that she couldn't go with us to the creek right then, said she had work to do and had to find someone to watch our younger siblings. We figured she wouldn't be able to find anyone to watch them with such a short notice. We also thought her work would keep her busy all day, and she'd never make it to the creek. So, yes, we let her in." He wasn't surprised when the boys rolled their eyeballs.

Though, both he and Peter totally lost it laughing when Eugene asked with the corner of his mouth fighting to stay firmly in place. "So, how many more fish did you all catch, and that includes grandma."

That did it; Nick roared with laughter as he answered, "Us boys caught five fish between us; she caught eight, and we ended up having to dig up a heap of worms over the next month. To this day don't know how she did it. Mother managed to catch twice as many fish as us in half the amount of time."

"Reckon she must have some secret bait," surmised Eugene.

The laughter continued as Nick and the boys continued fishing until they'd caught plenty of fish. As a result, Nick suggested the boys invite their Uncle Jarrod and Uncle Heath, along with their families, over for dinner the next evening.

Peter and Eugene beamed at the idea, knowing they would be hearing even more stories over the dinner from their family with their happy memories.


	6. Need Him a Bit Longer

**6 **

**Need Him a Bit Longer**

Eugene opened Nick's bedroom door slowly and peaked inside. When he saw no one but his father, who was lying still and unconscious in his bed, in the room the young child hurried over to the bed and climbed up next to his the only man he'd ever call father or daddy.

After finding out Nick was really his uncle the year before, and after months of an emotional roller coaster because of the long kept secret, he'd switched to calling him daddy. Still, for all intents and purposes, the boy did think of Nick as his father.

_"I don't know, Mrs. Barkley," Dr. Hank Merar, the grandson to the Dr. Merar that had served Stockton for over twenty-five years before retiring, stood in the living room speaking, unaware that ten year old Eugene Nicholas stood out of sight listening. "Nick is one pretty sick man. I won't lie to you. If he doesn't start turning around…" _

_Eugene didn't hear anything else as he quickly pivoted and ran barefoot and quietly up the stairs to Nick's room._

Eugene now lay curled up as much as possible next to Nick, letting his mind wander from one memory to another. The first memory that came to him was one of Christmas when he was five years old. He'd woken up around two in the morning. He knew he and the girls weren't supposed to go downstairs until five in the morning; _at the earliest, _was the directive given by the adults in the house. Only, he was too excited to sleep and, unlike the girls, refused to lie in his bed awake until the time arrived. That being the case, he'd slipped out of bed and made his way downstairs.

_He was almost to the tree when he froze. At first he didn't know why. After all, he hadn't heard anything, no footsteps, no voice, nothing, and yet he could feel something or someone watching him. Slowly he turned around and took a step backwards. Nick stood in the entrance way to the living room, his arms folded and a frown upon his face. _

_Eugene was sure that he was in trouble. "I see you finally got old enough to try and get to those presents early." Nick's voice was even and monotone._

_ Not knowing what to say, Eugene simply swallowed and gave the slightest of nods. When Nick started walking towards him, Eugene braced for the worst, only to be surprised when a smile started crossing the man's face he still only knew as his father picked him up. _

_Nick chuckled, surprising Eugene even more. "I don't know a child alive that doesn't try that at least once in their lives, probably more, in all honesty. However," Nick's face grew serious again. "You never know, though. Maybe, old Saint Nicholas isn't finished delivering' all our presents. What if he shows back up and your presents are all opened? What will he do with the rest of your presents? And," Nick moved his mouth from side to side for two seconds and frowned, "What will he do next year?"_

_ Eugene's eyes widened. He'd never thought about that. He didn't want to lose any other presents that he may have coming, nor did he want to be skipped over next year! "Maybe I'd best go back to bed, father."_

_ Nick chuckled and put the boy down. "Maybe you'd better." He started laughing as Eugene tore up the stairs faster than any wild horse could even think of moving._

The young child had other memories come to mind, but Christmas was just around the corner. Unbeknown to the child, his father's fever had finally broken and Nick had just opened his eyes. He lay there in silence, comforted by the warmth of the small bundle that cuddled up close to him.

Suddenly Eugene whispered out loud with tears running down his cheeks. "I don't want any gifts under the tree this year and Peter can keep the foal I was supposed to get this year. I just want Daddy Nick. We need him a bit longer. For that matter, I'd even start calling him father again."

He might have said more only Eugene felt Nick's arm move from the bed to his, Eugene's, back. The child's head flew up to see a grin that went from one ear to the other upon Nick's face and great emotion in his eyes.

"You don't need to give up your presents." Nick was fighting to keep his own tears away, the ones that would show how moved he was that the son his younger brother had left him wanted him to stick around bad enough to give something up he'd wanted so badly all year…namely the foal. That and the fact that he'd go back to the more formal title his cousins used. "I ain't leavin' this old earth without one hell of a fight first."

"Father!" Eugene cried out in happiness as he kept his promise and reverted back to using the term he'd dropped before dealing with the revelations of the past.

_Eugene Nicholas Barkley 1912_

_ My wife had our son today. His name is Nicholas E Barkly. While I have my real father's picture on our mantel and the family talks about him, the only grandfather my son will grow up with was the first to hold him. _

_Edited Note: Since I did not plan on Eugene dying and leaving his son to Nick to raise, Nick's family will be getting an extra chapter. _


	7. Mirror Mirror

7

Mirror Mirror

_For those of you who read Chapter Six before I inserted a note…because Eugene pulled a fast one on me…dying on me and leaving his son for Nick to raise…Nick and his family get a bit extra attention. Also, all I could find out about the story Briar Rabbit was that it first appeared in the nineteenth century. Since Nick's children would have been alive anywhere after 1878, references to that story will be made here._

_**0000000**_

Suzanna lay curled up on the sofa with a good story book. A full day of school, homework and housework had left the fourteen year old tired and grumpy and simply wanting to read a good book. Getting the book away from Elizabeth had been easy enough; her sister preferred to be outside with the horses or working in the barn. Elizabeth preferring the outdoors had frustrated her mother more than once, as she didn't think it proper for a young lady to act in such a way. That is, more than was required on their working ranch.

Nick, who had been to town, walked through the front door and looked at his daughter as she read on the sofa. He needed Elizabeth's help out in the barn. Not realizing his twin daughters had got it into their heads to dress exactly alike for the whole week and to wear their hair the same way as well. Nick took one look at the teen dressed in her work pants and shirt, with her long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and spoke up. "Elizabeth, come on. We've got to get the rest of the work done in the barn. It can't wait until tomorrow."

Suzanna continued to immerse herself in her book, thinking her father was talking to her twin. Not bothering to look up from the colorful images of Briar Rabbit, the girl had presumed Elizabeth had walked in through the kitchen and her father was talking to her from the doorway, loudly as usual.

Thinking his daughter was ignoring him…after all, how could one not hear his voice…Nick counted to ten and spoke again. Again, he got no response. That did it; he quickly crossed the room and yanked the book out of his daughter's hands.

Suzanna jumped to her feet and glared at her father; she had inherited his temper as well as a loud voice. That being the case, her sister, who was walking down the hall toward the living room, heard her when she yelled. "What did you do that for?"

"Don't yell at me young lady! When I told you there's work to be done in the barn, I wasn't talking to the air!" Nick snapped back.

Before Suzanna could say a thing, Elizabeth spoke up from the entrance way, doing her best not to laugh. Personally, she loved it when her father confused them…which seldom happened since Suzanna hated wearing men's clothing and usually wore her hair done up in a bun on top of her head. "Peter and I just finished that work, father."

Nick's jaw dropped as he looked from one daughter to another. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was brought out of his shock when Suzanna held out her hand for her book and said, as she bit off every one of her words, though her eyes were starting to dance with amusement. It had been ages since she'd seen her father looked so surprised. "May I have my book back, father? I need to get it finished before it's time to get dressed for the church social."

Nick handed the book back and apologized. "I thought you were Elizabeth." His voice then turned from apologetic to one of a more demanding tone. "Since when did you and your sister dress alike?" He hadn't seen them do that since they were old enough to dress themselves.

Suzanna and Elizabeth grinned as Suzanna curled back up on the couch and answered, "Since it meant Elizabeth gave me five books to keep."

Nick shook his head. He should have known Elizabeth had used books to get Suzanna into those clothes. The younger of the twins never could turn down a good book. "I'm going to check that work in the barn."

Peter had then walked in munching on an apple and not aware of the situation. "Come on Peter!" Nick headed for the door. The boy shrugged his shoulders and looked curiously at his sisters. They just smirked back, their own little secret well hidden as usual.

"Peter! Now," bellowed Nick.

Peter jumped and followed his father out the door.

The moment he and Peter were out of the house Elizabeth and Suzanna busted up laughing. "You know, sis," Suzanna laid the book in her hands on her lap for a moment, "That was funny."

Elizabeth's grin grew wider as she headed for the door. She wondered how many books it would take to get her sister outside doing the chores she, Elizabeth, had for a week. After all, if she could get her sister to them, she could spend more time riding the fence lines with their father or their Uncle Heath.


	8. Byron

**Author's Note: It has been pointed out to me that I have forgotten to specify where exactly each Barkley is living. I am sorry for that over sight. Jarrod is supposed to be living in a home he's built halfway between the ranch and Stockton. Nick, his family and Victoria still live in the original home. I will make sure not to continue to make that oversight.**

8

**Byron**

Heath leaned against the porch of his home and watched the boys and girls playing in the yard, all nine of them. He had to smile. He knew full well any stranger who happened by would think all the children were his biological children and that they lived in a house too small for their large family; the home had four bedrooms, a kitchen, living room, parlor and a washroom. It didn't matter to him though, nor did his wife care. Though, truth was, only the five year old belonged to Heath and Bridget.

Heath and his wife would have loved to have a dozen, but it never happened. Yes, Bridget had given birth to twin sons the second winter Heath and she were married. Sadly, the babies had died before the spring was new. That had been a hard time for both of them. They'd had to wait another five years before Byron Heath Barkley was born, and even he had given them a scare a time or two during the first year of his life.

The other eight children actually lived at the orphanage, but every Saturday and Sunday found them at the Barkley's home which sat on the edge of the north pasture of the Barkley ranch. Heath had actually bought the land adjacent to his half brother's ranch. That was more than perfect as far as Byron and the orphans were concerned. It gave them more land to roam over.

"Come and play with us, Father." Five year old Byron ran up the stairs of their home and to Heath, and then tugged on Heath's sleeve. "Please." His eyes looked up at his father and begged.

Heath gave his son a lopsided grin then laughed as he picked the lad up and carried him down the stairs and back to the other children. Soon, he was chasing all the children, catching them one by one and putting them up on the porch. Heath was sure they liked it just to see him run. By the time his sister came to pick the children up to take them back to the orphanage, he was sure he'd run ten miles.

"Father," Byron sat next to his father on the steps as they both wound down, "why don't mother and you adopt some of my friends? Tyler, James, Andrew and Jesse, they could live here and be my brothers." The child stopped, scrunched up his nose and added grudgingly, "I guess, I could handle Annie, Hannah, Grace or Elizabeth; they could stay here and be my sisters. But, if you adopted Elizabeth, we might wanna find another name for her. Cousin Elizabeth won't wanna give up her name."

Heath couldn't help but chuckle at the last statement. Soon enough his son would learn one doesn't have to give up their name just because someone else has the same one. The part about adoption though was more than a bit unsettling. He had wanted to adopt for some time. However, Bridget had balked at the notion when he brought it up the year before; hard enough to make him hesitate to try it again. "I wouldn't worry 'bout that right now." Heath ran his hand through his son's hair and smiled at him. "Let's go see what your mother's cooked for supper."

Byron, who loved his mother's cooking, jumped up and practically flew towards the front door. He didn't know when, or if, he'd ever get a brother or sister, but all of a sudden all he wanted was to sit at the table with a fork in his hand, unfortunately, the young child forgot to open the screen door and ran into it. "I don't think you have to hurt yourself to get a taste of your mother's cookin'." Heath winked and smiled at Byron after checking to make sure the child hadn't hurt himself.

Bryon chuckled too, as Heath opened the door and the two of them disappeared inside the home with Heath trying to decide how to approach Bridget about the subject of adoption again.


	9. Growing Pains

**9**

**Growing Pains**

Seven year old Byron sat underneath his favorite tree with his chin resting on his knees while his arms were wrapped around his legs that were pulled up to his chest. His backside was still a bit sore from where his father had swatted him, more than once, with the palm of his hand. He could see his father now riding towards him with his one arm wrapped around Byron's new two year old sister.

"Martha!" Byron let out a grunt. Why did his father have to bring her with him? She was the reason his backside was sore; well, more like the things he'd said when his father and mother had brought her home from the orphanage.

_"I don't want her here! Ya was supposed to get me a baby brother! Take that ugly thing back!" _He'd said other words, cruel words on top of those. The moment all the words were out of his mouth, young Byron knew he was in trouble. Hurt had filled his mother's eyes, as she held Martha close and ran out of the living room in tears. Fire had filled his father's eyes and the blows to his bottom had begun as Heath scolded Byron, telling him he was to never talk so badly about his new sister again.

Heath sighed as he saw his son turn his head just a little. While he'd known his son would not like the fact that he and Bridget had adopted a little girl instead of a boy, he had not expected such harsh words to come out of Byron's mouth either. After calming his wife down, Heath had convinced her to let him take their new daughter with him to find Byron, who had run off after his father had spanked him. _"He's got to learn she's here to stay." _Those were just a few of the words he's spoken to his wife.

Once he'd dismounted and set Martha down, Heath tied his horse to a nearby tree. Then taking a hold of his daughter's hand, he walked her over to where his son sat sulking. Since Byron expected his father to start lecturing him, he was surprised when Heath simply sat down, picked Martha up and started talking to her.

"I know your brother said a lot of mean things." Heath leaned against the tree while bouncing Martha on his leg just enough to make her smile. "You don't need to take it hard though. He didn't say anything worse than what Uncle Nick said to me when I showed up. For that matter, be glad you didn't wind up with an all out fight with him. That part, fighting your own brother ain't fun. I know fer a fact; your Uncle Nick has a mean right hook."

"Uncle Nick would never hit you!" Byron jumped up shocked at the statement and stared at his father, only to be told to sit down and to stop being rude by interrupting the conversation he was having with Martha. Byron was sure that getting a daughter had messed up his father's brains until Heath continued talking, telling Martha all the details of his arrival on the ranch and everything that had transpired afterwards.

Byron was stunned into silence. Sure, he'd heard the talk only he thought his uncles were just making it up. They and his father were so close and such strong friends that the young child hadn't accepted the facts as true.

"Yep, we all had some mighty painful growing pains back then," Heath finished as he sat Martha between his son and himself, "you just have to be patient with your big brother until he works through his. Who knows, someday, maybe the two of you will have another brother or sister."

Byron's face softened as Martha walked towards him. When she started to trip over his legs, he quickly caught her without thinking. It made Heath grin. Byron started smiling too. "I guess she's not that ugly and she can stay, but," he looked at his father, "She still ain't touchin' my pocket knife, my hat or my horse!"

Heath busted up laughing and nodded as he laid a hand upon his son's shoulder. "It's a deal son." Father and son continued to sit and visit while Martha insisted on climbing all over her new brother, which only partly annoyed him now.


	10. Leaning on Each Other

**10**

**Leaning on Each other**

Heath sat on the porch and watched as the last of his family, meaning siblings and their families, his stepmother and friends left. His heart was still heavy and his body numb. It all seemed like a bad dream, one that he wanted desperately for someone to awake him from.

"_I'm sorry," Dr. Robert Jacques, who taken over when Dr. Merar's grandson moved back east, paused at Heath standing before him and the children sitting quietly by the fireplace, and then continued speaking, "There's nothing I can do for her. Her heart was weakened when she had Scarlet Fever last year and, as you know, she's never been the same." The good doctor laid his hand on Heath's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "She wants to see you and the children." Dr. Jacques had then left leaving Heath to take his children into see their mother._

"_Hello there, cowboy," Bridget had smiled weakly up at Heath and then smiled at their children, "Hello, my dear babies. I've been waiting."_

_The visit had been short and tears shed. Two hours after the visit ended, Bridget had left her mortal existence in peace._

Heat sat looking at nothing in particular; the children were inside talking to each other. He thought on the large family he and Bridget had wanted; the one the man upstairs had denied them, and he wanted to scream. Giving up the dream of a large family had been easy enough; after all there had been the orphans who constantly visited. But this, this was too much. His children needed their mother…and he needed his wife.

Heath heard the front door of his home open. He turned his head just enough to see who had opened the door. It was ten year old Byron and five year old Martha; both looked just as lost and forlorn as he. Heath held out his arms.

Martha flew up into her father's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Byron quickly made his way his father's side; Heath slid his free arm around his son's waist. Not knowing what to say, Heath simply held on.

The wind seemed to know father and children needed comfort not harassment, as it slowed down the pace it had been blowing. The depressed silence that hung around the home was broken when Martha whispered, "Daddy, Byron says mother is in heaven. Is there really a heaven?"

Heath was startled and he looked down upon the top of his daughter's head. Before he could say a word Byron, who had barely heard what his sister had said, nodded and solemnly added, "Of course there is; mother always told us there was, and she never lied."

Tears again welled up in Heath's eyes and he fought to hold them back. It took a few moments before he dared speak. When he did, Heath made sure his daughter was sitting straight up and looking at him. "Yes, dear, there's a heaven. And I'm sure your mother was welcomed there with open arms by my mama, my father, your Uncle Eugene, Aunt Rachel, Hannah and others who have gone on before us. They're probably holding a party right now." He liked to think so anyway.

He wasn't surprised when Martha shook her head and whispered softly again. "I want her here to be here with us. What are we doing to do without her?"

Heath again pulled his young daughter close. He wanted to say something, anything, to help her but he was at a loss for words. That is until he remembered what his Aunt Rachel had told him a number of times growing up, especially when he'd hear about someone losing a member of their family and wondered what they'd do. "When we have a bad day and things seem to be too rough," Heath choked up as he answered his daughter and looked at his children, "we still have your grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins to turn on. Most importantly," he paused as a tear succeeded in falling, "we can start helping ourselves right now by leaning on each other. Your mother would understand allowing ourselves to grieve, but she'd have our hides if we withdrew from each other and failed to support this family."

Byron, who had refused to let himself cry, as he thought he had to be "strong", sat down on the other side of his father, leaned against him and started crying. Heath held his children even closer than before and closed his eyes. His heart might be broken, but at least he had two very special blessings as a reminder of the time he'd had with his late wife.


	11. Her Decision

11

**Her Decision**

From where she stood the good sister could see her blonde haired friend standing in the orphanage home's yard talking with the poor motherless and fatherless children. She'd been coming more and more often, talking not only with the sisters but the children as well. No one had to tell the Catholic Sister what her friend was beginning to contemplate. No, she'd heard the talk as she walked around Stockton. She'd had her friend's family stop by and talk to her. Slowly, the sister turned around and descended down the nearby staircase. She had a friend to talk to.

The children stopped visiting and hurried off to do their chores, homework or whatever they had to do when they saw who was walking their way. Oh, it wasn't that they were afraid of the good sister; they weren't. If anything, they adored her. They also recognized the look that was in her eyes as she made her way to their friend.

"Hello, thought you'd be by today." The good sister sat down and pointed to the place beside her. "You can still sit down. I have not learned how to bite yet, bark maybe, but not bite."

"Mother wanted me to come and talk to you." The blonde haired woman moved her foot around in the dust. She wasn't surprised when the Catholic sister shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

"So, it's true. You are thinking to join us here?" She gave her friend a gentle and understanding smile.

"Yes, I am." The blonde haired woman sat up as straight as possible, as if to send the message that no one was going to tell her what, or what not to do. She expected her friend to say something right off the bat, only she didn't. Instead the good sister stood up and walked towards the church building behind them. Naturally, the younger woman hurried to catch up. Once inside the chapel, the good sister started talking, not asking questions as her friend expected, but rather talking about the past.

"Like you, I used to be the bell of the ball, or so I'm told anyway. I certainly was the first in line when the dress shops opened, and I had plenty of beaus. Some," she shook her head in somewhat of a 'I don't believe my luck' as she thought on the men who had courted her, "were not what they presented themselves to be. You have experienced some of that yourself. But, as time passed, as I spent more and more time around the sisters and the orphans something changed inside of me. I can't pinpoint the exact time, only the change did take place and," she smiled at her friend, "I got pretty much the same reaction from my family as yours is giving you. There are only two major differences." She wasn't surprised when her friend started in surprise.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"The children and I, we laugh together, cry together, and share our joy when one of them is adopted. You see them only as friends, and you're running."

"I am not!" the blonde haired jumped up, instantly on the defensive. "I love these children as much as you do, as much as any sister here does!"

Slowly the good sister rose to her feet and walked to the window; her friend followed. Looking at the window, she could see some of the orphan children still playing with each other. She turned to her friend, "When you and I saw each other in town the other day and Johnny fell, it's true you stopped and helped me with him, but where did your eyes keep going?

The good sister wasn't surprised when her friend started to open her mouth, shut it, and then opened it again to answer softly, "Peter Lee was talking with some of his friends."

"And," the good sister looked back out the window, "Where did your eyes travel to yesterday when you and I were outside talking to the children?" She wasn't surprised when her friend simply looked downwards.

"Listen, I'm not condemning you. I know you have a kind heart and mean well. I, the rest of the sisters here, plus the children will continue to welcome you with open arms. But, I urge you to go home to your family and think long and hard on this. While I'm sure your family would come around and give you their support; mine did, it won't work if every bit of your heart isn't in it. Now come on, I told that brother of yours you'd be home on time tonight. Think on what I've said for at least a couple of months and see if things don't change."

"All right." Her friend turned and walked out of the church followed by the good sister.

"So, are we going to be getting a new sister or not?" Sister Anna, who had walked up just as the young woman mounted her horse and rode away, asked.

"No, I do not think so." In fact, she was ninety five percent sure, only she wasn't going to put it that way. She'd been wrong before; she might be again.

Slightly disappointed, Sister Anna started to turn away and then turned back. "Oh, Father Thomas wants to see you. I think it's about the children's school schedule. I don't know for sure. All he really said was 'please tell *****Sister Audra I need to talk to her about the school."

"Tell him I'll be right there." Audra answered just as she saw Nick and Ella walking down the street that lay directly opposite of her. When they saw her, Nick and Ella waved and shouted they'd come and see her once their business was through. Thinking on what she'd said to her friend who had just left, Audra smiled wide and waved back at her brother and sister-in-law. Then she turned and headed towards Father Thomas's office. If he wanted to talk about the school, she'd best have her ears wide open. After all, anything that might affect all "her" children was very much her business.

**Author's Notes**

*** Are you shocked that Audra is a "Catholic Sister"? Don't worry, so am I. ("Catholic Sisters" take vows of celibacy and serve the church out in the world…Catholic Nuns live in a more secluded environment. That is what my research says anyway.) Also, according to my research, not all groups of Catholic Sisters are required to change their name, hence the reason Audra's a Catholic Sister and her name didn't change.**

** * I am not marking "Dances in the Rains" as complete for the mere fact…I never know when another short shot will come to me, and this is a good place to post them.**


	12. You Have Us

**Author's Note: I knew there was a reason not to mark this project as complete. lol In this short shot, Heath is not a widower yet. So, please, don't let the comment about Heath and Bridget throw you off. **

**12**

**You Have Us**

"Sister Audra," Sister Caroline knocked on Audra's bedroom door causing Audra to awake out of her sleep. She looked out the window; it was still dark. When Sister Caroline knocked and called out again, she sat and swung her legs over her bed. What on earth did the good woman want?

"Just a moment!" Audra hurried to dress. It took a few moments, but soon she had her door open. The look of concern on her friend's face didn't help the uneasy feeling that had started coming over Audra. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Rachel; she's in the chapel crying. None of us can get her to stop. Father Thomas said to come and get you." Rachel was a young five year old girl who had just recently been placed at the orphanage. The young girl had not talked to anyone but Audra since being found and brought to the orphanage, and even then she'd given out only her first name, anything else had been irrelevant when it came to finding anything of real importance out.

"I'll take care of this," Audra walked at a fairly fast pace towards the chapel, "You go back to bed. With the festivities tomorrow, you'll need as much sleep as you can get." Morning would bring Independence Day to Stockton and there would be plenty of activities for everyone.

"Yes, Sister Audra." Sister Caroline turned around and headed back towards her own room. Her mind pushed the memory of the day the young girl was first brought to the orphanage.

_"I found her near the wreckage of a wagon. I thought maybe she could stay here while we search for her relatives." Nick stood in the yard holding the child in his arms because her leg was now sporting a splint cast. "Ella and I would take her in ourselves, but Ella's family is visiting at the moment. Jarrod and his family, plus mother, is in San Francisco. I'm not asking Heath or Bridget either. As you know, they're already looking after a couple of orphans until the children's grandparents arrive to pick them up." Nick had told her as he handed the girl in his arms over to his sister. _

By the time Audra stepped inside the chapel Father Thomas had given up entirely and was simply standing in a corner keeping an eye on the child until the woman who had been serving at the Stockton Orphanage, as an actual sister, for close to seven years, knelt down beside Rachel and gathered the young child into her arms. It astounded him to no ends when the child quit crying and curled up in a ball, holding tightly onto this good sister and actually voice a request for a simple song. Then again, he'd watched this happen time and time again. Where he and the other sisters failed, Sister Audra succeeded. There was just something in her that the young children were attracted to. Slowly, he turned and left the room.

Audra rocked back and forth as she filled the young girl's request. After she was done, Audra was surprised to hear Rachel whisper, "Mama used ta sing that ta me. It's my favorite." Taking a chance, Audra asked her what her mother's name was.

"Don't got a mama now." A tear ran down the young child's cheek, "She and papa are dead. Don't got no brothers or sisters neither. Mama only had me." She rambled on how all her grandparents were gone too and how the only uncle she knew of didn't like her father and had quit speaking to his sister.

Audra cringed at the child's English, but said nothing. Only when the child finished saying she had no one did Audra correct her. "If nothing else, you have us until we find you a new home." For the next hour she and Rachel talked. By the time Audra put the child back in her bed, it was almost five thirty in the morning. She had to chuckle as she shut the door leading to the large room where the girls in the orphanage slept.

Walking down the hallway and stopping by a window, Audra could see men and women begin to poke their heads out of their businesses. Off in the far distance she recognized Jarrod as he rode his horse towards town, and she smiled. Thanks to the unplanned visit with Rachel, Audra knew it was going to be a long day. Still, seeing Jarrod off in the distance and then hearing some of the local men talking to Father Thomas outside reminded her to be grateful for what she had. Then, knowing she had a full day ahead of her, Audra turned away from the window.

Audra might not have realized it, but Rachel had woken back up, managed to open the bedroom door and now stood not two feet from her. That caused her to jump just a little though a smile spread across her face as Rachel asked, "May I feed the chickens, Sister Audra?" The orphanage had a chicken coops alongside the wall in the backyard. As much as Audra felt like telling the child to go back to bed, she didn't. There was always the younger children's rest period during the day. So, knowing she'd have to make sure Rachel lay down during the day, Audra took the child's hand and together the two of them headed for a nearby door.

_"_


	13. Do Your Best

**Do Your Best**

Jarrod made his way down the path that led to the small creek that ran through his land. He'd seen his fourteen year old daughter, Joy, run down the same path moments ago. The young girl appeared quite upset, so he'd set aside the legal papers he'd been working and left the room he used as an office when at home. It didn't take him long to find his daughter; she sat on a large boulder, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Tears ran down her face.

Jarrod made his way to her side and sat down next to her; there was just enough room for two. Knowing his daughter as well as he did, Jarrod made no move to communicate with her. He simply sat next to her and gazed at the flowing water in the creek, knowing his child would soon break the silence. He wasn't to be proven wrong.

"Mrs. Hilman didn't like my Science paper." Joy said, sniffling as she spoke. "She said some pretty bad things about it." Mrs. Hilman was her Science teacher's wife.

"What grade teacher give you?" Jarrod turned his head and looked at Joy as he signed the question to her.

"B, but why do you ask that? It's Mrs. Hilman that made all the rude remarks about it, said she thought her husband should have given me a D!" Tears ran down her face once more.

What Mrs. Hilman was doing looking at Joy's paper, Jarrod didn't know. However, he had seen his daughter's paper before she'd turned it in and knew she'd earned that B. He also knew something else that his daughter needed to learn. "Joy," Jarrod began signing once his daughter had quit crying and was looking at him, "you need accept; not all people like all you do. Some will love your work, some will like your work, others…" he shrugged his shoulders and signed, "will not like work, maybe hate. Not important they like your work all time. Important you satisfied with your work. End day, you live with your work not other people."

Joy wiped a tear that had managed once again to slide down her cheek. She knew her father spoke the truth. She'd talked to herself all the way home telling herself it wasn't Mrs. Hilman she did the science paper for. She'd done it for her teacher and for herself. Still, no matter what; rejection hurt…especially when people like Mrs. Hilman said the things she had. "My head knows that, father." Joy laid her head against her father's arm. "It's my heart that's refusing to listen."

Jarrod smiled and let out a soft, garbled, chuckle. He knew that story all too well. "Do your best. All you can do. Accept some people approve your work, some not. You do fine."

Joy tilted her head slightly, looked at Jarrod and said. "Thanks, father."

_Joy Barkley Donald 1918 _

_I came home tired and discouraged today. I am fighting, along with other women, to get the right to vote. There are those who have been quite loud with their disapproval. I might have been tempted to grow bitter, even shed a few tears, but I see my father signing to my daughter, Meagan. She is having a rough time accepting criticism. "Do your best…" My father is telling her. I smile, remember one science paper, a talk by the creek and I don't feel so discouraged._


	14. Changes

**14**

**Changes**

Victoria stood in front of the house she'd lived in for so many years, a home she only visited now; her luggage sat next to her. One memory after another came and entertained themselves on the stage of her mind. Where had the time gone to? When had things begun to change? The moment she repeated the last question, Victoria had her answer. The day Jarrod came home unable to use his voice and communicating with sign language.

Oh, that wasn't a bad thing. She'd accepted it in time; especially when she saw how he'd refused to let his situation pull him down. She'd also been elated when her oldest had married Ester. Only, she sighed. Within months of his marriage, Nick had announced his engagement, and the following year Heath had married Bridget. After all that excitement, Audra had shocked them all by converting to Catholicism and becoming a nun. Of course, life had given them a reality check the day Eugene and his wife were killed and their son was turned over to Nick and Ella, and then there was the sad day they'd had to bury Bridget.

Victoria was brought out of her thoughts, as Nick stepped out the front door and walked over to her. The fact that he was a bit uncomfortable could be seen as he shifted his weight and put his hands on his hips. "It's going to seem strange without you here, been nice to have you around again."

Victoria smiled. She knew how much of a struggle Nick and the others had had when she'd visited her sister Clara in Colorado only to be swept off her feet by Theodore Mitchell, a wealthy rancher in that state. She too had had to fight herself to admit she loved Theodore enough to marry him and leave California. Of course, she had made it abundantly clear, mandatory visits would be made. After all, moving to another state with a new husband didn't change the fact that she cared about her children and grandchildren. "It's been wonderful seeing you again, son, but as you know life changes, and I have to go. I'll see you all again in six months."

Nick smiled. Thanksgiving; his mother always visited for the holidays. He might have said more, but he saw his stepfather and Heath driving up in Heath's wagon. Heath was going to take the couple back to the train station.

Theodore was almost as tall as Nick, but his shoulders were much broader and his hair was as white as the driven snow. Nick had to chuckle as he remembered the day he, Nick, had given the man just cause to show him just hard his, Theodore's, left hook was. At least he knew his mother would be well protected as long as the man was healthy. "See you mother." Nick said as Theodore stopped the wagon and climbed down.

Nick put his mother's luggage in the back of the wagon while his stepfather helped Victoria up onto the wagon. Soon she was seated between her husband and Heath. "Take care of yourself, son." Victoria waved to Nick, and his family who had now joined him on the porch.

Yep, life was always handing them changes. Oh well, at least, most of the time, they were for the better.


	15. Chapter 15

This short shot came to me in middle of the night. I couldn't ignore it. I am posting it unbeta'd so any mistakes are definitely my own.

**~oOo~**

Jarrod sat on a chair in the yard of his home. It had been a long day, a busy one, but it was over now. The guests had all left, and the bride and groom were nowhere to be seen. Only his oldest son, his daughter in law and his wife remained in the yard. He could see his wife standing approximately a hundred feet away talking to their oldest and his wife. The couple was heading back to Stockton in a few minutes. Jarrod sighed. Where had the years gone to?

His mind raced back through time, back to his own wedding day. After that, they went over one event after another. Some were small and some were big, but the ones that hit him the hardest were the weddings, his own or those of his children, and the funeral of his mother and brother, Gene, who had died far too young. At each and every event he'd yearned to tell people how he'd felt, on his own, without the aid of an interpreter. Of course, it had never happened. How could it when his ability to speak with his mouth continued to refuse to come back?

Without halfway thinking, he ran his fingers over his throat area and sighed and fought to keep any form of anger or self-pity away. He'd had enough of those in the early days after he'd been thrown off the train by a man stupid enough to mistake him for someone else.

He might not be sitting in the yard now thinking about it at all only he'd overheard a couple of their guests talking. _"I admire her. I don't know if I could do it or not." _Not knowing what they were talking, Jarrod stayed where he was, unobserved, and listened.

_"Admire her?" The other guest had sounded rather shocked at the first guest's attitude. "What about him? He went through hell, but fought back, refused to stay down. I don't how he did it!"_

They were talking about him, Jarrod Barkley and the fact that he had lost his natural voice never to get it back again. He'd sighed and walked away, rather upset. No one but those who had once had a voice and then lost it could understand how hard it was for him even to this day. Oh no, he didn't wallow in self-pity or course. He'd never been able to continue working if he'd done that. Still, he had his days, here and there, where it hurt more than he could say.

How many times had he met people, good people, and wanted to visit them, get to know them, maybe even share a few laughs with them, but couldn't? They didn't know sign language and too many times they didn't have time to sit down and communicate with him through writing. That being the case, he'd had no choice but to smile and nod politely as the very same people fidgeted and haltingly apologized when it came clear he could hear them, but not speak to them.

As his thoughts turned to the wedding of his and Ester's youngest, Jarrod allowed a small moment of anger to once again flood over him. How he'd wanted to stand up and tell the world how happy he was for Joy, for all the children Ester and he had been blessed with. But, of course, he couldn't.

Only when he saw his son and daughter in law leave, and Ester started walking towards him did Jarrod quit dwelling on past events and stand up, holding out his arms as he did so. The moment Ester was in his arms, Jarrod held her close and shut his eyes. It was times like this it hurt the most. How he longed to speak to the love of his life with his natural voice. To tell her how grateful he was for the fact that she'd stuck by him through the good times and the bad, for the fact that she'd never given up on him.

As always, Ester sensed his need, the need to be reassured all was right with their world in spite of what life had handed him. As always, she gave him that reassurance. Only, this time she didn't sit him down and talk to him, reminding him of all he still had, what they had. No, this time she simply led him inside the privacy of their home and used her hands.


End file.
